A Prince Or Nothing
by Ryuko-chan
Summary: An internal dialogue of Vegeta on the day he died trying to destroy Majinbu. Not quite verbatim, and based more on the US release, but oh well. My first DBZ fic. 4/11/03: Update! Checked spelling, fixed errors.


A Prince… or Nothing

                His bright, green-blue eyes stare up into mine. A faint part of me winces. 

                "You're not gonna go all alone, are you daddy?" he asks, despite his best efforts, his voice was colored with worry.

                I say nothing. After a moment, I frown. My chest feels tight, and I can hardly comprehend why. I had tried to tell myself that I didn't care. That I cared neither for my son or my wife. But I can't let the symbol on my forehead tell me to lie to myself. When did I forget that I loved her? Of course it was when I allowed my pride to take over.

                I just let Trunks go, after he left for his future. For a moment I forgot that the boy looking hopefully up at me at this moment was the same as the man, that powerful man, who risked so much for me, someone who had already died. And perhaps… perhaps this has to happen, or he won't become the kind of man that he was before. Maybe it's not too late for him to become something better than me. Listen to me… I've become the kind of fool that Kakkarot is. But he would never understand that.

                "Dad." Trunks says, "You can't go alone. You can't do that!" he protests. 

                "Trunks.." I say, amused at the gruffness in my voice, "You must stay here."

                "But Vegeta!" protests Kakkarot's young boy, "You can't face him alone!" 

                "Dad! We could help! We're strong!" Trunks says. 

                Trunks… He thinks he's so strong already. And he is. My son, world champion. He is a Saiyajin Prince. And I? I am…. Suspended. Stuck in time. No matter how much better that I become, someone is always there to become the best. I've always hated that. The failed Saiyajin prince, the one who couldn't even best the peasant, brought up on a backwater planet. Being bested by your son is not a… horrible thing… No. Of course not. I bested my father. 

                I remember my father. He was my hero. He was the king of Saiyajin… The greatest man I ever met. But still… He was always distant. As if he wanted me to be as far away from him as possible. He never held me. And…. I've never held Trunks. I look down on him, his eyes filled with wonder at my silence.

                "Trunks…" I say, "I've never held you, not since you were a baby…" I pause, unable to comprehend the words that were about to come out of my mouth.

                "Dad?" Trunks asks, "What are you doing?" 

                "Trunks… Come here, Trunks.." I say. I must look like such a fool, blood still dripping from my mouth, scratches all over my body, my arm outstretched. I would be surprised if he did come to me, me talking like a sopping fool like I am. 

                But though reluctantly, he comes forward, standing stiffly under my arm. It's ironic, but not unbelievable, he doesn't know how to be embraced, just as I don't know how to embrace. 

                "Dad…" he says, embarrassed, "What are you doing?" he asked. 

                "Son…" I say, for a moment speechless. I don't want to do what I have to right now. With my free hand I throw him into the air and strike… strike at my own son. I would look like a horrible beast to someone watching. 

                Trunks collapsed, his golden hair fading to a mute purple. I always loved that hair. So very like his mother's, yet not. There were some times when I found myself wanting to ruffle that hair, but then some foolish pride held me back. Of course I must rue that now, must call myself a fool. 

                Because this is the last time I'll see my son. 

                I can hear Goten shouting. He's afraid. He doesn't understand. He is so very like his father. 

                "Daddies aren't supposed to do that to their sons! Daddies are supposed to love their sons!" I look at him. His breath is coming fast, adrenaline pumping. He loves my son like he was his own brother.

                Another blow and Goten is fallen. He still doesn't understand. 

                A shadow crosses my field of vision. It is Piccolo, or the creature we have continued to call Piccolo. His level gaze pierces mine, and for a long moment I wonder if he didn't understand either. But… his hearing is much better than anyone else's, so I'm sure he knows why I did it. 

                "Bring the boys someplace safe." I say, turning away. 

                "Of course." He says gruffly, settling the boys in his arms.

                My curiosity and trepidation soon become the better of me, and I open my mouth, "Piccolo…" I say, and he looks at me, "Tell me that I won't see that fool Kakkarot where I'm going." I only say that because I know that he will.

                "Goku was sent to heaven with his body intact, because of his selflessness, and the way he cared for others. And you…" do not… Is what I know he's thinking.

                "So, the answer is no?" I say.

                "No… You will not be going to the same place as Goku." He said. 

                I am silent. Of course I'm going to hell. I'm as far from perfect as one could be. I conquered planets and reduced their inhabitants to nothing. I killed many creatures. I don't feel remorse, simply because I cannot think about it. 

                I allow myself one last look back at my son, and smile bitterly. Of course I'm not going to heaven. I have no misconception about that. But perhaps…

                Perhaps my son can redeem me. 

                The creature once again arises, and like a cockroach it lives. Quick as a flash, Piccolo dashes off, with my son in tow. For a moment I wonder what Bulma will think. 

                "Not leave?" Calls the wretched bulbous creature, "Stay and fight?" 

                "YES!" I shout, leaving my son and wife behind, losing myself in the battle, "I will fight with you, you putrid thing!" I close my eyes, and draw out my energy, building it up to the highest level it can be. 

                As the final blow blazes its way to that foul creature, blazing out from my body in a bubble of searing flame. I hope that the disgusting thing is surprised as it dies. I hope that it doesn't see its impending doom. All that can do is cause pain, and make you behave strangely. 

                As the energy I call up begins to tear at the surroundings, I calm and become introspective.

                I do this for you, Trunks, and Bulma. And yes…. Even for you, Kakkarot. Live, because your lives are worth more than mine. Live, because I can't stand to look at you. All of you. 

                The energy begins to tear at my body, throwing heat from the inside of me. My body begins to twitch, my muscles to die. I almost can't hear my thoughts through my screams, but one last thought prevails. 

                Their lives will be better without me. 

END

Author's note: This is my very first DragonBall Z fanfiction. The only other fanfiction that I've read for this is… not good. But I really should endeavor to read some good fics, but anyway… I wrote this because I like Vegeta. He amuses the heck out of me, and I like him. He's really cocky, and he's a jerk, and for some reason I like that kind of character. Unfortunately, I think I made him a bit OOC here. That's probably because I don't watch Dragon Ball Z every day. But who knows? Vegeta could think like this… (not really.)

                 This is based off the episode called Final Atonement (Thanks everyone who gave me the title!). The one where Vegeta dies at the end, trying to kill Majin Buu. In any case, I thought that his thought patterns before his death, and before his leaving, deserved some attention. Please be kind to this fanfic, I worked hard. I didn't know how to end it though… In any case, thanks for reading it. 


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